The Music Box
by Pansychic27213
Summary: [Warning for mentions of death and torture] The Phantomhives are in the possession of an old music box...


**A/N: I found a prompt on Facebook with a picture for little!Ciel and a music box... So this happened. You can throw tomatoes now... *holds up shield***

**The Music Box**

-{[(•)]}-

The manor lit for a single moment as lightning flashed, and trembled as thunder rumbled overhead. The storm was passing directly over the manor now.

A blue eyed child wiped the tears from his eyes and quietly pulled the sheets off his little body. He twisted and placed his tiny pale feet on the cold wood flooring. Without a sound, he crept from the room and down the hall, his nightgown billowing gently around his legs. Tears dripped from his bright eyes and stained the rich carpet beneath him.

The door to the master bedroom opened with a slight creak, and a small head peaked through the crack. The occupants of the large bed shifted, aware of the change in atmosphere but still unconscious.

The boy tip-toed across the carpet and tried to pull himself on the bed. He just wasn't tall enough...

Grabbing the blankets and trying to keep his crying quiet, he pulled and struggled to crawl in between the owners of the manor. He only succeeded in slipping and falling to the ground.

More tears filled the five-year-old's eyes.

A pair of dark eyes sleepily opened and looked over the side of the bed. "Hmm? What's wrong?" His father yawned and immediately reached out his two large, comforting hands. The boy sniffled and guided the hands to his waist. The man lifted him from the cold, hard floor to the warm, soft bed.

Lightning flashed, and thunder tore across the sky.

"Hn?" The auburn haired woman hummed brightly and blearily opened her eyes. "Sweetie?" She yawned and sat up. "What's going on?"

The boy just snuggled closer to his parents.

They shared a look. "Is it the storm?" They asked. He shakily nodded and wiped his eyes. The father hummed in agreement and nodded. The mother stretched and removed herself from the covers. The boy squeaked and reached his hand for her.

"Just getting my robe," she murmured. She wrapped herself in said velvet red robe, before moving to a nearby bookcase and retrieving a wooden box roughly the size of small stack of books. The woman returned to the bed and tucked her son tighter under the covers. "Here, honey."

Big, bright blue eyes watched her carefully. She gently stroked some hair from his face, and his leaned happily into her touch. She chuckled under her breath and sat on the edge of the bed. Twisting a key on the back, she opened the box.

Sweet, slow music poured out, beautifully soft and sure. The notes bounced around, washing away the worries and fears from the storm.

The boy yawned quietly and struggled to keep his eyes open as his father ran his fingers through his hair and his mother hummed the tune from the wooden music box. His eyelids fluttered closed, long eyelashes splaying across his cheeks.

His mother paused for a moment to press a loving kiss to his forehead. His father just smiled and did the same.

The music box played on.

-{[(•)]}-

The fire was running through the halls, tearing down the curtains, breaking apart the walls, and burning the decor to a crisp. A boy of ten years was also running through the halls.

"M-mother? Father?" He shouted as he hurriedly pushed open doors and tried to keep from being burnt. "W-where are you?"

At the next door, flames exploded from the room. The boy gasped and covered his face, stumbling backwards. The smoke caused his eyes to tear up, and his found it hard to breathe. Sparks and ashes drifted through the air around him.

He coughed and pushed forward.

A few doors down, the child found something he hoped he could un-see. Half his mother, and half of his father, used to form one body.

His eyes widened and a scream tore from his throat.

-{[(•)]}-

Left alone for once after hours of torture, a boy cried softly to himself and hummed a song from a music box.

A music box in a house that burned down.

A house that used to hold some people.

Some people that used to hold him close and love him. People that would have protected him from harm and would have given their lives to keep him from anything that might hurt him.

People that were dead.

-{[(•)]}-

An eleven year old boy stood in front of a manor. His eyes were a dull midnight blue, and his right eye was covered by an eye patch. He looked over the charred remains with disgust.

"Sebastian," he called, without looking over his shoulder to his new companion. The red eyes butler approached.

"Yes, my lord?" He asked quietly, knowing that the child was still wary of adults and loud noises. Despite his efforts, a small tremor ran through the boy's body.

"Please salvage anything you can from what is left of the house. Until we get the accounts sorted out with the bank, we still need to save every bit we can. Hopefully, there's something of value in there," the boy commanded with authority unbefitting of someone his age and size. His butler nodded.

"I doubt it, but I will do as you ask, my lord." The taller being disappeared into the mansion.

Tired and a bit anxious, the boy quietly sat on one of the suitcases nearby and was able to swing his legs back and forth because his feet still didn't reach the ground.

As the sun was setting, the black haired man returned from the ruins and produced a large box of dirtied valuables. "My lord, this was all I was able to collect from safes and such."

The boy sighed and motioned to be given the box. When it was in front of him, he silently rifled through its contents. His hands came to a stop.

The butler watched as the boy began to shake.

"My lord?" He questioned worriedly. He leaned forward to see what had caught his master's attention. The child just pulled the wooden box out. He gulped quietly and turned the key on the back. The lid was lifted, and out came a slow, winding tune that both comforted and made the boy miserable.

He set the box to the side, wiped his eyes, and hummed along as he continued to search through the rest of the box. His companion watched in silent amazement at the exchange, as though he had seen right through it to the child's very soul.

The music box played on.

-{[(•)]}-

Now thirteen, a blue eyed boy sat in his office, swinging his feet under his desk and filling out paperwork. A cup of tea sat nearby, and a plate of cake was sure to be on its way. The boy sighed lowly and lifted the teacup for a sip.

Lightning flashed, and thunder rumbled.

The teacup fell from his hands.

The boy gasped and quickly retrieved a towel from the nearest closet. He carefully placed the cup back on the desk and wiped the tea from the carpet. He stared down at his soiled clothes with irritation.

The child rolled his eyes and removed his jacket. His butler could always deal with it later.

With his jacket set aside and the door to the office closed, the teen silently approached the bookcase in the farthest corner and grabbed a wooden box. He brought it back to his desk and sat down as he wound its key.

The lid was opened, and a terribly sad tune rolled out. As depressing as it was, it was also calming and beautiful in every sense of the word. It was a twisted kind of agony; one that hurt you but made you crave it at the same time.

Tears leaked from the boy's eyes. He choked out a sob and gently removed his eyepatch. He folded his hands, and hid his face as he wept quietly.

Sensing his anguish, his butler appeared unheard in the shadows of the corner. He watched sadly as his master cried.

The longer the music played, the louder the storm seemed to get, and the harder the child cried, until the storm drowned out everything else.

"M-mum," the boy choked out. He buried his face in his hands and tried to stop crying, his shoulder hunched and trembling with restraint.

The faces of three servants peeked through a crack in the door, for once solemn.

The music box continued playing, unaware.

-{[(•)]}-

**A/N: *slowly lowers shield* We good? *sees incoming tomatoes* Agh! *hides behind shield***

**Ciel: That's what you get for making me cry.**

**Me: Sorry?**

**Ciel: *throws tomato***


End file.
